


Gone Fishin

by stag_hag83



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boats, Cute Doggies, Drunk Hannibal, Drunk Will, Emotions, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fishing, Fluff, French Quarter, Garden District, Humor, I promise smut!!!, Injured Will, Kissing, Lovers, M/M, New Orleans, No ACTUAL crabs, Romance, SERIOUS MAKING OUT GUYS, Surgeon Hannibal, The crabs are actually crustaceans, Whiskey - Freeform, angsty past, au hannigram, cop, cop will, crabs, like i said, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stag_hag83/pseuds/stag_hag83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is a fisherman and boat mechanic. Hannibal a big time surgeon renting a house in the famed New Orleans Garden District.  After a hilarious incident with crabs and mud puddles, our boys begin a smutty, funny, poignant, and occasionally drunken relationship.</p><p>***hey lovers! I've started to update this bad boy again! You guys are a constant inspiration. </p><p>And to Esther! I've been sick af the last few weeks, but promoise to update. Writing it out by hand. :0)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone Fishin Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback of all sorts, and of course love ALL you gorgeous AO3 readers and authors. 
> 
> Let me know what you would like to see! Very open to suggestions. Enjoy.

Dr. Lecter sat at the bar. He never sat at the bar. Because he abhorred bars. This bar was especially shabby-which he thought was a diplomatic way of putting it. He had come to meet a sleazy blue crab fisherman in the parking lot. He had a few “select” customers to whom he relinquished the freshest catches. For a cost, of course. Hannibal, being Hannibal, was more than willing to pay. He walked back to his Bentley, refrigerated box tucked under his arm. The rain had begun to fall, not unusual for this season in New Orleans. 

Hannibal prided himself on his poise at all times; Which is why, when he somehow stepped into a deep puddle losing his footing, he was particularly aggravated. On top of crashing to the ground, being coated in cold muck, and losing a shoe, the box of crabs seemed to explode onto the asphalt. Hannibal sat for a moment staring at the sky, with a strange curse on his tongue. He took a breath and could hear squelching footsteps approaching him. 

He closed his eyes and heaved a deep, resigned sigh. He had no desire for assistance.  
The footsteps belonged to a 30 something bespectacled man with a leather messenger bag wearing a horrendous plaid shirt. Just his luck. Hannibal looked up, and was slightly offended to see an amused look on his scruffy face. His blue eyes laughed at him, and Hannibal Lecter did not appreciate being laughed at. 

“You lost your crabs.” he said nonchalantly, watching one particularly tenacious one scuttle into the deep puddle. 

“Yes.” Said Hannibal, eyes cold. “So it would seem”. 

The man laughed out loud this time, and apologized. 

“I'm sorry...but when those crabs went flying...” 

He continued to smile and reached a hand down towards Hannibal. Hannibal took the offered hand and wobbled on one foot, trying to decide which was worse. Putting his foot directly on the pavement, or gripping the man while he retrieved his shoe. He rolled his eyes and released the man’s hand. 

His rescuer was even younger than he originally thought. He had wild brown curls, which were now wet against his forehead, and basic black framed glasses. He would have been attractive, thought Hannibal, if he shaved his chin and set fire to that terrible shirt. 

Hannibal began to look underneath his car, an attempt to salvage a crab. He gave up quickly. The young man was still smiling, but looked slightly remorseful. Hannibal’s pristine suit was ruined, even the silk spotted tie covered in the mire. His shoe was hopeless, and he looked at the puddle sadly. He decided the Italian leather lace-up was lost, destined to become a home for the wayward crab. 

“Will” said the man from his side. Hannibal looked around at him, confused. 

“My name”, he said. “Will”. 

“Hannibal Lecter”. He shook hands with Will, happily transferring some of the mud onto his palm. 

Will didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He, to Hannibal’s surprise, took the older man’s arm companionably. 

“C’mon” said Will, dragging him gently towards the bar. “I’ll get you a drink. I apologize for laughing.”

Hannibal looked at Will’s face. He really was quite handsome...even with that ridiculous scruff on his chin. 

Hannibal was soaked, and he had to admit to himself that a drink sounded excellent; Even from the dubious establishment in front of him. He let Will lead him, wet sock slapping the pavement.

OoO

So here was Dr. Hannibal Lecter, sitting at bar, large TV blaring in front of him. 

“So. Crabs?” wondered Will.

Both men sat with their drinks, Hannibal slowly warming up thanks to the fingers of whiskey sitting in front of him. Will had decided on the same, and begged to pick up the bill.

Hannibal willingly let him, resigned to his fate. 

"To be perfectly honest" began Hannibal , swishing the liquid around in his glass, "the crabs are supplied by a local fisherman of questionable morals." 

Will raised his eyebrows and took a sip, waiting for further information. It didn’t come and Hannibal gazed distastefully at the mud drying under his fingernails. 

Will couldn’t help smiling, but was able to hide it. He appraised the man next to him. Fancy suit, Fancy shoes, well, one shoe actually, and graying hair. He's Not unattractive, thought Will. At first he thought him almost strange looking, with impossibly high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Now, he noticed the intriguing shape of his lips, the flattering way his hair fell over his forehead, and the endearing expression of subtle disgust. He couldn't place the man's accent, although there was no question that his English was flawless.

They sat in silence for a moment. Hannibal glanced at Will, who was trying politely not to tip back his entire glass. He decided to throw him a bone. 

“May I ask what you do Will” inquired Hannibal, turning to face him. 

Will looked surprised at this sudden interest, feigned as it may be. 

“I uhhh...” Will hesitated for a moment .

“I was a cop” he said, looking down into his drink.

“I was injured on the job and...” he shrugged, looking uncomfortable and adjusting his glasses. 

Hannibal felt a surge of something at the man’s distress. Could it be called compassion? He spontaneously reached out and laid a warm hand on Will’s own for just a moment. Hannibal’s hand was larger than Will's, the palm soft, unlike his own calloused ones. Will looked taken a-back but smiled and continued. 

“I just couldn’t do it anymore.” Sighed Will, and rubbed his shoulder abscent-mindedly.

“Now I repair boat-motors. And I fish. I like to fish.” 

 

“Anyway.” Will began, the mischief returning to his stormy eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”

Hannibal cocked his head, squinting his eyes in comical exaggeration. 

“ I feel bad laughing at your...incident earlier.” Will didn’t even try to hide his lop-sided grin.

Hannibal cringed. 

“I’d like you to go crabbing with me. Much fresher, and less likely to escape into a parking lot”. 

Hannibal considered the curly headed man. Rarely did Hannibal abide laughter at his expense, or the physical familiarity Will had shown in taking his arm. However, he found himself attracted to Will, something darker behind his seemingly innocent eyes. 

“I would love nothing more” smiled Hannibal, genuinely pleased by the prospect of getting to know Will better. Not to mention a large pot of she-crab soup. 

“5 am tomorrow” Will said, in a no-nonsense tone. 

He grabbed a napkin and wrote down the address. 

“Wear...” he looked dubiously at Hannibal’s 3 piece suit.

“Not that.” he finished with a laugh. 

Hannibal smiled again, taking his leave. 

Will realized he hadn’t asked Hannibal what he did for a living. He thought about the warmth of Hannibal’s hand, and those tantalizing lips. His felt his face heat up, and decided it didn’t matter in the slightest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal takes up Will on his offer. PLEASE READ NOTES BELOW
> 
> **new edits**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!!!  
> If you aren't really interested in the Garden District in New Orleans you may want to skip to the end of this chapter. A leeetle hint of having a mad crush. I truly go into the description of the streets-The houses and flowers and ancient trees. I tried to keep it interesting, and I hope it is! I really love New Orleans, have spent a lot of time roaming the French Quarter. Not a hilarious chapter, but I PROMISE there are hijinks to come 
> 
> Hint-Hannibal has never been on a boat.  
> If you're curious, some examples of Garden District Shotguns.. [Shotgun](http://www.nola.com/homegarden/index.ssf/2014/02/shotgun_geography_new_orleans.html)
> 
> xo

Gone Fishin Part II

5 am came quickly. Hannibal decided on a triple espresso, and happily cradled the steaming cup in his hands. He was leasing a small Shotgun cottage in the classic Italianate style that was common in the Garden District. It was a yellow narrow rectangle, with squat white columns and a diminutive garden gate. The garden itself was immaculate, with a small stone path dividing the lawn. Hummingbirds darted in and out of the blood colored Indian Pinks, oblivious to the man watching them from his dainty porch. 

 

The upper District seemed to glow in the hazy light of the morning. Crab-apples bloomed garishly, and the ancient Live Oaks towered over the Mansions of Charles Street. The sun was forgiving at this time of day, but would become unrelenting soon enough. This was truly a Louisiana summer. 

 

At 4:45, Hannibal picked up the napkin where Will had scrawled his address. The phone number seemed to taunt Hannibal. He looked at it for a few seconds and grabbed his phone, sending a short text. 

“On my Way.”

As he was stuffing it into the back pocket of his rarely worn jeans, he heard the sharp “bing” of a text. His rolled his eyes at his beating heart, which sped up significantly at the sound. Traitor.

“Watch out for puddles”.

Hannibal smiled, and headed to the black Bentley parked next to a small Magnolia tree. 

oOo

Hannibal hadn’t really looked at the address until he was punching it into his GPS. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“1324 Chestnut”. 

He looked at it more carefully, expecting the numbers of the address to shift somehow.  
Hannibal was on Camp Street, which was beautiful no question. 

Chestnut, however, was Arguably the literal heart of the The Garden District. The Mansions were surrounded by curling wrought iron fences, ancient Gardenia bushes, and cobbled paths. Many of these daunting beauties were adorned with massive Ionic columns and elegantly expansive porches. Chestnut street always seemed darker, with a deep blue shade issued from the oaks and the houses themselves. Some properties were more exposed, with vibrant paint covered plaster and well pruned shrubs adorning the front gates. Their window shades were often thrown open, offering tourists a view of curling, sunlit staircases and baby grand pianos. 

Other homes, no less precious to architects and historians, were hidden far behind high walls. These oaks seemed to be a part of the houses themselves, reaching out protective branches to shield the fading walls from the harsh light of modernity. The landscaping of these venerable dwellings only offered peeks of faded plaster, exposed brick, and massive peeling porches. They kept their secrets well, inhabiting a world of perpetual twilight. 

oOo

Chesnut was a hop skip and a jump from Hannibal’s home, barely a 4 minute drive. He drove slowly down the street, moved by its grandiose beauty. He crept along until something caught his eye. There was a stone placard outside of what initially looked like a thick grouping of trees. He saw a number, and glanced down at the now dirty napkin. It matched. Hannibal continued to drive around the side of the grouping, and gasped out loud. Hannibal could not remember the last time he had actually gasped in surprise. He liked to consider himself always composed, and gasping was very unrefined. Gasp Hannibal did when he saw the dilapidated house before him. 

oOo

Classic Italinate architecture with delicate moorings, and 8 or 9 picture windows facing the street. The lower porch was beautiful in its progressing state of decay. It looked to have been painted pale blue, as was the house. The paint was beginning to simply come off in large sheets, as opposed to crackling here and there. Almost every surface was covered in vines, consuming the structure. The upper-porch had succumbed to weather and age, and its mouldy planks now sagged precariously. Hannibal exited his car and found the house looming over him, intimidating in its antiquity. He walked towards the gate, and hesitated. A sudden noise made him jump (something else he hadn’t done since childhood). 

“Hannibal!” 

A cheerful voice yelled, slightly muffled by the weight of heavy branches. Will ran up puffing, and stood red-faced on the other side of the gate. 

“So you found it? I realized I had just given you the address. I forgot to text with actual directions this morning.” 

“I live but a five minute drive from here; I’m on Chestnut”, Hannibal said smiling back at the sweating man.

Will nodded, and seemed suddenly aware that Hannibal’s gaze was wandering to the crumbling house behind him. Will blushed. 

“I was actually hoping to catch you at your car before you saw me.” “This... (here he motioned at the building behind him) ..can sometimes be a little...” he trailed off. 

“Do you live...in the house?” asked Hannibal dubiously. He glanced up at the upper-porch, imagining it crashing down with the lightest breeze.

“Um no.” Will colored even darker. “I set myself up in the carriage house behind.” 

“I see” said Hannibal, unsure how to proceed with what appeared to be a touchy subject for Will. 

Will answered Hannibal’s unasked question. 

“I inherited it actually. From some great-great-great something or other. I had no idea any of my family had ever even lived down here. It’s been passed from generation to generation I guess. My father died, and left a letter with his will.” 

“Will you sell you think?” asked Hannibal unable to stave his genuine curiosity. 

“Dunno” shrugged Will, looking about 12 years old. 

As a transparent change of subject, Will grinned and confidently took Hannibal’s hand. 

“So Hannibal Lecter. Are you ready for an adventure?” He asked the question dramatically, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows above his hairline. 

Hannibal, without a thought in his head, squeezed Will’s hand. 

“Lead the Way”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. real quick-Shot gun houses. Interesting little tid bit. These little lovelies are called shot gun houses (cottages) because, if all doors are open, the bullet of a shot gun could literally travel straight through from front to back.


	3. Gone Fishin Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal hops aboard the S.S. Will. And I mean a literal boat. Sorry. 
> 
> READ NOTES BABIES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. 
> 
> This chapter got a little sappy. I promise the next chapter will involve some debauchery. I am LITERALLY working on Part IV right now. I'm not intentionally leaving you blue balled. Stick with me. No wait! Come back!! Make a U-Turn!!!!!
> 
> Also. Here's how I kind of imagine Will's boat [Will'sBoat](http://www.classicboat.com/classic-boats-28-19thhole-40j.htm)

Gone Fishin Part III

The trip out on the boat was never innocent, even if it was unconsciously done. Will was adamant he had invited Hannibal out of guilt, and couldn’t quite admit to himself that those cheekbones...and those promising lips had played a major roll in his decision. The brief hand holding, however, was very very intentional. When Hannibal had confidently squeezed back, Will began blushing and smiling like a fucking virgin bride. Will had always held interest in men and women, and had fucked both enthusiastically, that’s for damn sure. College has been quite an experimental time, and he had just started carrying condoms around in his computer bag. 

oOo

“Where exactly are we going” asked Hannibal dryly as he tried to keep his hair in place. Will had the windows open and his curls were blowing attractively around his face. 

“C’mon Mr. Lecter. Don’t you want to be surprised?” Will waggled his eyebrows obscenely at him. 

“It’s Dr. Lecter, and no. I don’t".

“Well. Pardon my ignorance Dr." Will wasn’t perturbed by Hannibal’s curt tone. 

Hannibal grimaced and turned back to his own slightly cracked window. They were driving along the massive lake, which was a shocking teal in the sunlight. Hannibal squinted and had to say, despite the wind situation, it was breathtaking. The vast lake, over 600 miles of it, was subdued in the still morning air. At some point, they began passing a few small boatslips with sleek white vessels secured against the docks. 

Hannibal must have drifted off for a moment when the car stopped with a small jerk. He lifted his head and looked and Will. 

“Sorry for the early morning” Will apologized, smiling deviously. 

“Yes” Hannibal replied. “You seem truly regretful”. He feigned anger and ran fingers through his greying hair. 

 

“Are you really fixing your hair?” Will asked in disbelief. 

Hannibal sniffed, slightly offended. He stopped never the less, feeling slightly foolish. Hannibal never felt foolish. Who the Hell was this young man who threw him completely off his game? 

Hannibal exited the car, and saw a tiny slip with a single boat. 

oOo

The boat, with the word “Hummingbird” painted on the side in a childish hand, bobbed gently up and down on the water. Hannibal was trying desperately to reign in his emotions, but couldn’t help cracking a rare wide smile. He fell in love, right then, with the boat, the lake, and even the briny smell carried on the breeze. Will walked up next to him and playfully bumped his shoulder. 

“It’s a Cabin Cruiser. Is that correct?” asked Hannibal cocking his head. 

“Nice work!” cried Will incredulously. This time he slapped Hannibal roughly on the back.

“Will”. He said sternly. “No more of that. I’m not your...what do they say? Your “Bro”." 

Will laughed out loud at this, and glanced at Hannibal coyly. 

“I should hope not”. Will winked. He actually winked.

Before either of them could process the flirtatious moment, Will strode over to the Hummingbird. The cabin cruiser was relatively small, with what looked like a fresh coat of white paint. Even the black, flourished name on the side looked as if it had been meticulously touched up. The craft was about 25ft long, give or take. Hannibal followed Will almost shyly, carefully stepping on board. The floors were freshly finished, light colored planks reflecting the now unrelenting sunlight. The main cabin was airy and pleasant, with a tan spinning chair for the driver on a pole. The back of the Hummingbird was almost completely taken up by deck, save a few padded seats against the slightly raised sides. Hannibal had the sudden urge to lay on the deck itself, and bask in the sun like a lizard on a rock. 

Will interrupted the doctor’s reverie. 

“So. What do you think of her”. 

Will tried to sound nonchalant, but was silently worried the man next to him would say he got sea sick, or couldn’t swim, or some other excuse to get out of this...date? Was it a date?

“William.” Hannibal sounded reassuring and soft. “She’s lovely”. 

Will blushed and felt his heart flutter. 

“Did you call me William? Are we already at the William stage in this relationship? And what if my name was Willis? Or...Wilmer.” 

“I would like to think we’ve arrived at William” returned Hannibal. “Besides. You are definitely a William”. 

oOo

Will fiddled around with this and that, momentarily distracted. 

“Why Hummingbird?” Hannibal asked from the back deck. 

Will shrugged. 

“The man I bought it from was probably 90. Said his daughter had named it years ago before she died. He still referred to it as “Amy’s Boat”. After that I couldn’t stand to change it. The guy told me he used to take it out at night to look at the stars, and would hear her voice on the wind”. 

Hannibal was taken aback. Will’s face looked serene, and he stared out at the lake, perfectly still.  
“Jesus.” Said Will, shaking his head. “I’m wandering”. He tapped his skull, trying to get his stray thoughts back in line. 

“Not a problem Will. I had a younger sister, Mischa, who died when we were children. I often think I hear her singing quietly to me as I fall sleep” Hannibal replied. He looked at Will tenderly, moved by his empathy and respect for the old man and his long dead little girl. 

Hannibal made a bold decision. He strode up to Will with intention, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty McSmutterson is coming. Ha. Coming.


	4. Gone Fishin Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two refined gentleman on a boat. Just kidding. Dry humping.

Gone Fishin Part IV

The bottom line is both Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham could put it away. Will, thankfully happened to have a full bottle of whiskey on his person. Hannibal, not to be out done, brought several bottles of chilled wine in a large cooler. 

oOo

Will had zero time to react to the kiss. Hannibal immediately turned away to walk back to the open deck. Will still felt the soft weight of Hannibal’s lips on his own, and completely forgot about crabbing. What was crabbing? Where was he? What was his name? Willis?

“Should we uhhh...” Will began awkwardly, head still a little fuzzy. 

“Should we take her out?” Will gulped and tried to get himself under control. 

He felt like a horny teenager and strategically held the bottle of whiskey in front of his crotch. It did a mediocre job disguising the now massive tent in his thin shorts, and he immediately conjured up the image of a prostate exam. That seemed to do the trick. 

oOo

“By all means” Yelled Hannibal, excited by the prospect. 

Will chuckled. 

“You really don’t have to yell. She’s isn’t that big.”

Hannibal bowed his head in a false apology and turned back to watch the lake, feeling the wake pick up beneath them. Hannibal trusted Will to do whatever boat-ish things needed to be done. Will sensed this and went on with his business preparing The Hummingbird for her next adventure. 

Will was lost in his work, and Hannibal watched him. Will’s curls were beginning to stick to his forehead, and there was a triangle of sweat seeping through the front of his t-shirt. Hannibal licked his lips, and felt his groin begin to twitch. Horrified by this body’s betrayal, he turned away, grabbed one of the bottles of wine from the cooler, and pressed it against the front of his jeans. The cool glass barely tamed the raging beast and Hannibal panted quietly. Will disappeared below deck, and Hannibal imagined himself sticking his cock into a chest freezer . That seemed to do the trick. 

oOo

They were out on the water, simply basking in the heat. Hannibal had reluctantly shed a layer of clothing, his very nautical white button up carefully folded on a tan seat. Will openly laughed at him, and slowly pulled his own shirt over his head. Hannibal smirked. Officer Will Graham was putting on quite the show. They lay a few feet apart, the breeze a welcome relief from the now stagnant heat of the mainland. It had been quiet for a few minutes, when Will abruptly asked, 

“So Dr. Lecter. What’s a fine doctor like you doing in a place like this?” He phrased it jokingly, but there was an undercurrent of real curiosity. 

Hannibal wasn’t ready to delve into the heavy stuff. He wanted to enjoy the boat, the wind, and the shirt-less individual next to him.

“Well Mr. Graham. For now, may I say, vacation?” Hannibal raised his eyebrows at Will and Will raised his back. 

“You may. And I feel irresponsible letting that wine sit any longer in this heat. Agreed?’

oOo

Will was shit-faced. There was no other word to describe his current condition. He leaned against the wall in the tiny bathroom of the berth and pissed for like the 100th time. He thought about just going over the side of the boat like a frat boy, but felt The Hummingbird judge him sharply. Will accounted the day, which was far harder than it should have been. At one point he and Hannibal were each holding a glass if of wine, being very poised and fancy. Then it was 2pm and the second bottle was rolling around on the deck. The whiskey came out, and then, somehow it was five o’clock. He finished peeing and stumbled out of the bathroom, realizing he had yet to show Hannibal his bunk...

oOo

Will tripped over his feet on the way back, the 4 stairs leading up a little too much for him. He found Hannibal dozing lightly, and sighed. He was a pretty, pretty dude. He got down on all fours (God knows why), and crawled over to Hannibal. The doctor heard Will’s failed attempt at subtlety and opened an eye. 

 

“William”. Hannibal’s voice was as calm as the lake, under the clear, star studded sky. 

“Get up” said Will, in a barely discernible slur. 

Hannibal never got “drunk”. He became quiet and reflective under the influence of alcohol, and never ever got horny. In fact he never used the word “horny”. This is what he told himself as Will lingered over him. Quite horny. 

“Why should I get up?” Hannibal inquired, quite enjoying the view. 

“Well, good sir”, answered Will regally. “You have yet to see my bunk.” He tried to wink and just ended up blinking sort of weirdly. 

oOo

 

“You know”, said Will stupidly. “The bunk is actually called the berth”.

Hannibal looked around at the surprisingly large berth. It looked like it had been recently redone, and smelled like fresh paint. There was a large bed under a small window, a kitchenette, and a minute bathroom in the corner. There were bookshelves over the bed and kitchenette, crammed to the point of crashing down on unsuspecting guests. If he weren’t so faded he may have been concerned. 

Without warning the boat jerked, a sudden wave hitting against the side. Will was inevitably flung into Hannibal, and they landed on the floor in a heap. It knocked the breath out of Hannibal, and Will began to giggle madly. 

“Fuck! Are you alright? Are you dead?” Will continued to laugh, raising himself off of Hannibal, who continued to gasp a bit. 

Poor Hannibal wouldn’t find substantial air any time soon, as Will bent over awkwardly and sloppily kissed his lips. 

oOo

 

It really was quite disgusting, mused Hannibal, as the other man continued to essentially lick his face. He was also harder than he had ever been in his life. This was no simple erection; this was a rock-hard, pulsating, straight up boner. Hannibal grabbed Will’s jaw, and decided to control the “kiss” or whatever the Hell it was that Will had initiated. 

Hannibal licked Will’s lips open, and pushed against his tongue in an attempt to calm it. It seemed to work, and they kissed, open mouthed, tongues circling each other lazily. Will laid heavily on top of Hannibal, turning the kiss evolving into a full make-out session. Hannibal decided to join him, and let his cock take the wheel. He ran his hands up and down Will’s torso, pinching at nipples and biting on his neck. Will moaned and pulled Hannibal’s hips into his own, grinding erratically. Will had zero control of his senses after drinking, and dry humped Hannibal like a dog in heat. Will clumsily lifted up Hannibal’s thin t-shirt, and stopped abruptly. 

“What?” 

Will Giggled. 

“William.” Hannibal was supremely annoyed. 

“You....Are a Yeti.” Will began to laugh hysterically, and rolled away onto his back. 

Hannibal frowned, confused and slightly offended. 

“You know”. Said Will breathlessly between giggles. “Really fucking hairy”. 

Hannibal was not a man to be trifled with, and it was about time this little shit knew it. He stood (a bit wobbly to be honest) and grabbed Will from the floor. He threw him over his back in a fireman’s carry, and slapped Will’s ass roughly. Will stopped struggling for a moment and whispered (pseudo) seductively 

“Have I been a bad (hiccup) boy?” 

Hannibal then threw him onto the bed without ceremony, a few books flying here and there. They began to move their hips, finding a relative rhythm . Even the ever-controlled Hannibal Lecter made some pretty other worldly noises. Will began squeaking and thrashing, fingers digging into Hannibal’s clothed ass. When Will came, it was with the force of fucking freight train. Semen seeped through the his boxers and shorts, spreading out between them. Hannibal felt Will’s violent shudder, and lost all sense of propriety. He released and yelled drunkenly, 

“ I love this boat!”

At these elegant words both men passed out, happily covered in sweat and semen.

Romance wasn’t dead.


	5. Gone Fishin Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little cup of joe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Guys. Guys. This is really short. I sort of wanted to throw it out quickly while I work on chapter 6. Just to prove I haven't abandoned this fic. Also there's graphic semen descriptions.

The Hummingbird rocked gently. Will woke, but took several long minutes to appreciate the calming sensation. He looked over at Hannibal and blushed, and then glanced down at his shorts and sighed. They were ruined that was for sure. It had been quite a few years since he had cum in pants. Bottom line, they were crusty as fuck. 

“Morning” Hannibal grinned, squirming in his own encrusted jeans. Hannibal felt no awkwardness, and kissed Will lightly on the forehead. 

Will smiled, and realized this was not just a morning after. Not just a drunken, horny experiment.   
“So”, asked Will, feeling confidant. “Breakfast?”

“Indeed. Although coffee would be much appreciated.” Hannibal rubbed his temples. 

“Coming right up good sir. Would you like room for cream?” Will asked jauntily. 

“Black for me. How do you take yours may I ask? An important question in a budding relationship.” 

Will tried to hide the crazy smile on his face, and failed miserably. Hannibal rose and put his arms around Will’s waist. 

“Um...Lots of sugar, lots of cream, and a pinch of cinnamon”. Will brushed a hand through Hannibal’s silvery hair. 

“Get to it!” Hannibal slapped Will’s ass a lot harder than he intended. 

oOo

Will secured The Humming bird to the tiny dock. He brushed his fingers along the words and remembered the old man and his daughter. 

oOo

Will’s home loomed before them, casting shadows over Hannibal’s Bentley. 

“Thank you Will” was all Hannibal said. He grabbed Will’s hand, and after a regal kiss, drove slowly away, soaking in the Louisiana morning.


	6. Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well now. There's this thing. Called phone sex. 
> 
> GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF FORESKIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Wasn't sure where to take our boys, so I went with smut. Surprise Surprise.

Will fell asleep almost immediately. Luckily Angie next door had fed Titan for him. The giant beast knocked Will onto his ass as he entered the coach house. 

“Ok ok. Jesus buddy relax”. 

Titan absolutely did not relax, and continued to lick Will’s hands and sniff his crotch. Will brushed him away quickly, embarrassed. And then was embarrassed about being embarrassed in front a dog. Titan clicked off into the kitchen jauntily to wait by the back door. 

The coach house was small, the equivalent of a loft. Like The Hummingbird, the walls were lined will bookshelves in varying degrees of chaos. There was a bed in a corner, and a make shift kitchen. The backyard was always shaded in the thick bower of the oaks, making it an ideal spot for iced tea on those sticky, 90 degree days. 

Will had installed an AC window unit, which sputtered to life when he smacked it with his hand. He let Titan back in, who was carrying something unrecognizable in his mouth. 

“It’s probably cat shit.” Thought Will, not caring an ounce. 

He quickly changed into a clean pair of boxers, and collapsed on a love seat nestled between against a bookshelf and giant ficus. He reached up behind him, and grabbed a book at random. He paged through Alice in Wonderland vaguely and smiled at the bizarre illustrations. He fell asleep with the book in his lap, and Titan at his side.

oOo

Hannibal also felt the pull of sleep when he pulled the Bentley into his drive way. It was early still, the morning glories just beginning to open. He was about to unlock the door, but instead decided to walk around the side of the house. 

The small deck attached to the boasted an elaborate porch swing. It had obviously been installed recently, but it was still picturesque under the protection of the awnings. Hannibal, without a care in the world, took off his shirt and his disgusting jeans. He looked around, a small devious smile touching his lips. His yard was enclosed by a tall white fence, keeping out the wandering eyes of his neighbors. He stripped off his boxers, and a breeze hit his bare thighs. He settled onto the swing, plush pillows cushioning the hard angles of his body. He was asleep in seconds, listening to the rustle of leaves. 

oOo

 

It was twilight when Will opened his eyes, and the AC had obviously met its maker. He had sweated through his boxers, and the leather of the love seat stuck painfully to his back. Even Titan, who was typically glued to Will, had wandered to the bathroom to find some tile to lay on. 

He stretched and looked at his phone. 4:45pm. What an awkward time to wake up he thought, not feeling particularly refreshed. He shuffled over to the AC and slapped it smartly. It wheezed pathetically and Will sighed. Thank god for the shade. 

Will fiddled fruitlessly with the unit for 20 minutes, Titan chewing on his cat turd contentedly. Will have up. It was way to late for any hardware to be open on a weekend. He would have to endure with fans and ice-cubes. Will sighed, stomach still a little off from last nights...pursuits. He blushed a little and smiled wryly. He wondered what Hannibal was up to....

He glanced at his phone, eye squinted. He could just shoot him a quick text...Would that be desperate? 

“Should I text him?” Will asked Titan, who was now gnawing on his own foot. 

Titan answered with a tail wag at the sound of Will’s voice, and moved to the other paw. 

Will bit his lip, and tried to think of how to play this. He sat on the kitchen floor, back to the open fridge. Fucking AC. 

oOo

Hannibal was suddenly awake. His eyes just snapped open for no reason, and he nearly crashed to the ground. He was hot. And naked. And a little hung over. He rested on the swing for another minute, trying to adjust to his surroundings. It was late, he thought. The sky was purplish and clouds serene and low. 

“BING”. 

Hannibal jumped, still a little out of it. A lot out of it. His phone sounded again, reminding him to look at his fucking phone. He picked it up, and was surprised. The text flashed across the screen.

“Hey. It’s Will”. 

Hannibal’s stomach turned, a combination of nerves and whiskey. He did not hesitate and began to type out a response. 

“How are you feeling William?” He smiled, and pictured Will sleepy eyed and disheveled. His cock jumped to attention. His phone sounded quickly.

“Meh, Still has fun last night”. 

oOo

Will stared at Hannibal’s speedy response. He sighed in relief. Maybe not so desperate. Horny, but not desperate. At least that’s how he justified it to himself. 

 

“BING”. 

Will read the response.

“I did also. What are you up to Will?” 

Despite the mundane subject matter, the memory of Hannibal’s lips on his own made his groin tingle pleasantly. 

“I'm sitting on the floor. With my dog. In front of the fridge. AC broken. Sigh.” 

Will sent the text, feeling adventurous. The front of his boxer briefs were completely tented, cock pointed towards the sky.

Will waited, tapping his finger nervously against his thigh. 

“BING”. 

He grabbed his phone, and waited a few seconds for the photo text to load. It revealed a picture of Hannibal’s crossed bare feet, propped up on the arm of what had to be a porch swing. 

Will decided to take a photo of his own. 

oOo

Hannibal relaxed against the pillows, enjoying the evening. He thought about touching himself in earnest, but wanted to hold off and try to be bold. 

“BING”. 

Hannibal watched the photo load and his eyes about popped out of their sockets. 

Will’s hand was sneaking below the waist band of his boxers, giving Hannibal a peek of soft dark hair. 

That did it. Hannibal’s cock now completely fascinated, and impatient for a little action. He hesitated. This was his first experience with what were they called? Ah yes. Dick pics. He decided to blow caution to the wind, and gently pinched his foreskin. He hummed and awkwardly snapped the lens. 

oOo

Will’s eyes rolled up into his skull when Hannibal’s picture came through. His cock was big, bigger than Will’s. It was uncircumcised, but the pink head poked out glistening. 

Will was cut, and delighted in the challenge of a foreskin. 

He began to stroke his erection languidly, still propped up against the fridge. He realized after some serious handi-work he had to stop and text back. He lost all sense of propriety. He tried to text with one hand-

“Pull back the skin. I want to see it. Imagine it under my tongue”. 

Will clicked send and threw the phone down next to him. His hand was slick at this point, and he thrust aggressively up into his expert fist. 

oOo

Hannibal did as he was told, pulling back his foreskin. The breeze hit the tip of his penis, and he was almost pushed over the edge right then and there. He traced the head with his finger, thinking about Will’s hand and mouth doing all the work. 

He grabbed his phone with a sticky hand and pressed call. He heard Will’s breathing when he answered the ring. 

“Cum Will. Now”. 

oOo

Will hit his head on the veggie drawer as he came, moaning and bucking his hips. He could hear Hannibal breathing roughly, sound slightly broken up over the speaker phone. As Will’s cum dripped down his arm and onto the linoleum, he heard Hannibal crack and spill over, sighing Will’s name like a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. I'd LOVE some ideas. Just hit me with whatever. Thank you all so much for your reading, your kudos, and your comments. It makes my loins quiver.


	7. Gone fishin part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good eats. A doge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Esther

Hannibal shuffled around the property. He touched flowers and listened to birds. He took a walk basking in the shade of the giant oaks. 

Hannibal was not usually someone who shuffled. But Will. Last night’s venture into mutual masturbation had left him sort of unsure. Could this be a budding relationship? Or just a fun way to pass the time. He looked at his phone. He hadn’t heard from the younger man. He wasn’t sure why he was waiting on Will. He sighed and tried to read. He randomly grabbed Alice in Wonderland from the Shelf. 

oOo

Will was out in the yard with Titan, who was looking for some decaying animal to roll in. He sat on the small patio and picked up his phone. Hannibal. He had been in his thoughts since the foray into phone sex. They clicked. He could feel it. 

Fuck it. 

He picked up his phone and shot off a text.

oOo

Hannibal was lounging on the couch looking at the ceiling fan when his phone tweeted next to him. He grabbed it with the reflexes of a cheetah. 

W: Hey. 

Hannibal licked his lips. He was half hard already. Jesus Christ. 

H: Hey back. 

On the other end Will smiled. Contact made. Level up! 

W: So. I had a thought. And no, not that kind of thought. Well. That too. 

Hannibal chuckled and wrote back

H: Do tell. Either thought will do. 

W: What do you say to dinner? Without...you know what. 

H: I’m liking this idea. When and where. You’re the local after all. 

W: Antoine’s. French Quarter. How do you feel about Oysters Rockefeller?

H: Oh. VERY passionately. 

W: Tomorrow at 7? Carpool?

H: I’ll pick you up. Not that I don’t love the station wagon...

W: Pretentious bastard. See you tomorrow.

oOo

 

It was 6:25 pm. Hannibal straightened his tie and vest for the 50th time. He was nothing less than pristine as usual, but saw 1000 wrinkles and pieces of non existant fuzz. He checked his watch. Now or never.

oOo

Will had accepted his suit would never match Hannibal’s. It was a simple navy jacket and pants. He wore a white shirt, because he had no fucking clue how to pair it with anything else. He decided againt a tie, leaving the first 2 buttons open. He wanted to give a tantalizing little peek. 

He jumped at the knock on the door. Titan “buffed” from the couch lazily. Will licked his lips nervously and opened the door. 

Hannibal looked amazing. Obviously. His suit was a subtle blue plaid with an almost gaudy pink paisley pocket square. The suit hugged him just right, and Will's breath caught. Please no erection...please no erection. He fought the impluse to grab him by the lapels and thrown him onto the hardwood floor.

“Good evening Will.” said Hannibal amused, seeing the light flush on his neck and cheeks. Will, Hannibal figured intentionally, had left the first 2 buttons of his white button up open, giving Hannibal a glimpse of collar bone.

“Hannibal. Thanks for picking me up”. He smiled a little wickedly, some of his confidance returning. He could tell they were both fighting for self control. The heat between them was palpable. 

At this point Titan wandered over, still half asleep. 

“Who’s this?” asked Hannibal, holding out his hand to the dog. 

“This is Titan. I found him wandering around Baltimore when he was a puppy. Couldn’t just leave him to die. Although, I had no idea he’d end up 150 lbs.” 

Titan put his giant snout into Hannibal’s palm in a sign on acceptance, and went to curl back up on the couch. 

Hannibal smiled. “Shall we?”

oOo

Antione’s was one of Will’s favorite spots in the French Quarter. It was the oldest French-Creole restaurant in New Orleans. It was nestled on St. Louis, just a hop skip and a jump from Decater. The building itself was classic French Quarter townhouse style, with 2 levels separated by an ornate porch, with thin columns and curling wrought iron vines encoraching on the large windows 

Will led Hannibal in by the hand, and Hannibal was touched. The dining room was open, white linens on every table. It was wonderfully airy, the windows open. Will walked up to the small podium. 

“Good evening sir. Name?” 

“Graham.” 

The hostess smiled and led them to a small table in the corner where the light was softer. Hannibal was charmed immediatly. They sat across from each other, trying not to stare. The server came over quickly, filling water glasses and smiling over eagerly. She handed them the menus, on a thick, expensive textured paper. She began to list the specials by memory. Will looked impatient, but managed to keep his mouth shut. 

“Can I start you with drinks?”

Hannibal jumped in before Will could speak. 

“A bottle of Blanc de Blancs.” Hannibal hadn’t even gazed at the wine list. 

The server looked surprised.

“Excellent choice sir!” She turned on her heel and went to the small cellar.

oOo

The wine was crisp and dry, slightly carbonated. 

“A dry white will go perfectly with oysters.” Hannibal smiled at Will seductively. 

Will raised his eyebrows and took a sip of wine. The server returned in a few minutes, interrupting a thorough eye fucking. 

“Have you decided?” She brougt out a small pad of paper.

 

“We will start with the the Huitres en Coquille please." said Will cockily. 

The server winked and left without another word.

“Bold William”. Said Hannibal, tight lipped. No one ever had the audacity to order for Hannibal Lecter.

“Dr. Lecter. This restaurant invented Oysters Rockafellar over 100 years ago. Don’t cheat yourself. Will felt powerful, bossing around the tall man in the expensive suit. 

Hannibal's thigh twitched. Something about the younger man taking charge made his stomach twist pleasantly. 

oOo

The oysters were creamy and warm, almost melting on the tongue. The baguette crumbs and butter oozed down the sides of the half shells. Will, unable to help himself, grabbed several oysters by hand while Hannibal pulled them daintily from their shells with the appropriate fork. 

The men decided to split the veal, and order a bottle of red this time. 

They waited for their meal and drank in silence. Will, inhibitions non existent, grabbed Hannibal’s hand across the table. He looked at him seriously and said in low voice, 

“I was shot.” Will’s eyes flit from Hannibal’s face to the white linen table cloth. 

Hannibal was also feeling a pleasant buzz. He could hold his wine like a champ.

He decided to squeeze Will’s hand, encouraging him to go on. 

“He pulled a gun. It was dark, and my flashlight died in my hand. He fired the first shot, hitting my shoulder. It shattered my collar bone. I fell onto the pavement, damp with my blood. My partner...she...she threw herself on top of me when the second shot echoed through the alley. I can still hear it. My ears still ring in my sleep. Beverly-my partner-was hit. She died instantly, still shielding me with her slack body. I passed out after that Hannibal. And I couldn’t save her.”

Hannibal stood abruptly. He walked to the hostess stand and whispered something. In 2 minutes Hannibal held a large bag. 

He rubbed Will’s shoulder gently, and Will looked up blearily. 

“Will. I got the food to go. Come on.” 

Will didn’t fight him as Hannibal struggled half carrying Will and juggling the bag of food.

“Where’r weee going...?” Will slurred, trying to put one foot in front of the other. 

“We are taking a cab to my home. It should arrive in a moment.” Hannibal held Will tighter around the waist, pulling him toward him. Will’s head wobbled like a bobble head, and ended up on Hannibal’s shoulder.

oOo

Hannibal sat Will on the front steps, where curious fire flies surrounded him. Will reached out, trying the touch them. Hannibal unlocked the door and placed the food on the kitchen counter. He turned on several Tiffany lamps, the light gentle and tinted. 

He went to grab Will who was leaning against one of the stout columns.

“Yerrr house s’ beautiful”. He got out as Hannibal pulled him up. 

Hannibal chuckled and helped him through the front door. He placed Will in a large leather chair, almost the size of a love seat. Will groaned and snuggled against the pillows. His eyes were closed, and Hannibal decided to leave the veal for tomorrow. 

“Will. It’s time for bed.” Hannibal said sternly staring at the pseudo conscious man.

Will nodded as Hannibal hoisted him up and put his strong arms around his shoulders and trim waist. Hannibal’s bedroom smelled like the Honeysuckle growing right outside. The bed was plush, with a plump comforter and a million little pillows. 

Will looked up at Hannibal, amused. 

“Wow. Decorative pillows. You’re sort of a grandma you know that?”

Hannibal sighed and got Will into bed without too much bodily harm. He removed his shoes and pulled a thin sheet over top of him. He turned, and headed towards the other bedroom when Will whispered, almost inaudibly, 

“Stay.” 

That’s all it took. Hannibal removed his clothing, leaving him in tight black boxer briefs. He climed in next to Will, curling around him. He held him tight, almost painfully. The both fell asleep in the other’s embrace.


	8. Gone fishin Part IIIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kittens. And smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. We'll delve into Hannibal's past. But. I needed some good old fashioned smut. Xo

Will yawed and cuddled down into the comforter. He immediately knew he was at Hannibal’s despite some of the hazy events from the night before. He reached over and felt an empty space. He sat up, and put his aching head in his hands. The night came back to him in pieces. He had reopened the case files, and fallen back into his past. Hannibal had been there to catch him. 

He swung his legs over the bed, the room still spinning slightly. He smelled coffee, his Ambrosia. He shuffled into the kitchen in his boxers, too hung over to give a shit. There Hannibal sat at a small table by the kitchen window, reading an actual paper-a real, non electronic paper. Hannibal put down the New York Times still unaware of Will’s presence. To Will’s surprised ( and delight) Hannibal reached below the table, and with one hand, picked up a scrawny, one eyed cat. Hannibal whispered into it’s torn little ear and set it on the table. 

Will couldn’t help himself. 

“Are you reading an actual paper? Like...made of paper?”

Hannibal looked over at Will and smirked. 

“Yes William. Not everyone is attached to their devices.” Hannibal gave the cat on the table a treat. 

“Ok. That’s settled. Now let’s move on. What on Earth is that?” Will gestured at the cat, but not unkindly. 

“Ah yes” said Hannibal. “This is Parrot”. He stroked the cat who mewed at the sound of his voice. 

“Like you with your Titan, I found him wandering in the streets. I assumed he was feral, but he bounded over to me quite enthusiastically. He followed me into the house and that was that."

Will came forward and put out his hand. 

“Hey Parrot”. Parrot proceeded to rub himself on Will’s hand with a loud chirp.

“Why Parrot?” Asked Will, the cat now trying to climb up his arm. 

“He talks back. Try it.” Hannibal was absorbed in his reading. 

Will was now holding Parrot, who was purring thunderously. 

“Well Parrot. How’s your morning going?” 

“CHIRP”. 

“Interesting” said Will, looking into the cat’s good eye. 

“Parrot. I have an important question.” 

“MEW”. 

“Should I have my way with this paper reading fellow in front of me?” 

“MEOWWWW”. 

“Well” said Will. He put the cat down, who continued to make small noises. “That as they say. Is that.” 

oOo

Will pulled Hannibal up, and they walked hand in hand to the bedroom. Small slivers of sunlight fell across the bed, and Hannibal sprawled out onto the mattress with a sigh. Will climbed on top of him, and pressed his forehead against the other man’s. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, breath tickling Hannibal’s nose. 

“For?” Breathed Hannibal, hands exploring Will’s chest. 

“Last night...I...I haven’t talked about Beverly since...” He trailed off. 

Hannibal didn’t respond. He simply rose up and kissed Will sweetly, his lips ghosting across Will’s. Will’s self control failed him. He fell heavily on top of Hannibal and raided his mouth with his eager tongue. He tore the t-shirt over Hannibal's head and began to grind against him until Hannibal stopped him. 

“No” He said sternly. I refuse to cum in my pajama bottoms. I am not 15.” 

Will laughed heartily and pulled Hannibal’s drawstring pants and boxer briefs down in one fluid movement. 

His cock was long, and true to the photo, uncut. Will was fascinated. He gently stroked the foreskin, soft and almost paper thin under his busy fingers. Hannibal groaned like an animal, as Will continued his exploration. He used his fist and gently pushed the sheath back, revealing the pink, damp head of Hannibal’s cock. He was suddnly ravenous, and bent down to lick the swollen tip.

“Will. Stop. Or I Will cum. Perhaps I am 15.” Hannibal was panting at this point.

Will grinned wickedly and climbed back up Hannibal, giving some much needed attention to each nipple. 

oOo

Will was next to disrobe, boxers sliding over his hips and off of his ankles. They landed god knows where, forgotten. Without hesitation their bare cocks were rubbing together, moisture dripping down into Hannibal’s pubic hair. Will’s hand reached between them, grabbing both of them in one fist. He jerked up and down, feeling Hannibal’s foreskin move against his palm. Will came, coating them both. He yelped and moved his hand through his orgasm. 

Hannibal was still hard, and Will looked at him, licking his lips. He moved down Hannibal’s torso and sure enough, wrapped his lips around Hannibal’s entire length. It took 2 sucks and Hannibal was releasing down Will’s throat, unable to utter a warning. Will didn’t seem to mind in the least, and wiped his lips salaciously. 

Hannibal looked at Will. Will looked at Hannibal. Will opened his mouth to speak, hoping to say something meaningful, or poetic. All that came out was,

“Fuck. I’m hungry.”

Hannibal chuckled and kissed him. 

“Well then. Let’s get to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having trouble with this fic. Not sure QUITE where to take it. I'm so sorry it's not finished.


End file.
